"We know one another, that is well said," said Hediger solemnly after slowly taking a pinch of snuff. "You all know what bad luck I have had with my sons, although they are smart and lively lads. I had them taught everything that I wish I myself had learnt. They all knew something of languages, could write a good composition, were splendid at figures and had sufficient grounding in other branches of knowledge to keep, with a little effort, from ever relapsing into complete ignorance. Thank God, I used to think, that we are at last able to educate our boys to be citizens who can't be made to believe that black is white. And then I allowed each one to learn the trade he chose. But what happened? Scarcely did they have their indentures in their pockets and had looked about them a little, when the hammer got too heavy for them, they thought themselves too clever for artisans and began to look for clerical jobs. The devil knows how they did it, but the young scamps went like hot cakes. Well, apparently they do their work satisfactorily. One's in the post office, two are employed by railroad companies and the fourth sits in an office and maintains that he's a government official. After all, it's none of my business. He who doesn't want to be a master must remain a journeyman and work under others all his life. But, as money passes through their hands, all these young gentlemen clerks had to give security; I have no property myself, and so you all, in turn, furnished security for my boys, amounting to forty thousand francs; the old tradesmen, their father's friends, were good enough for that! And now, how do you suppose I feel? How would I stand in your eyes if only one out of the four should take a false step, be guilty of some indiscretion or piece of carelessness?" "Fiddlesticks!" cried the old men, "put all such nonsense out of your head. If they hadn't been good boys we wouldn't have done it, you can be sure."